


The Brink

by sabinelagrande



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Arguing, F/M, Friendly Fire, Partial Nudity, Pre-Relationship, Unrealistic Armor Removal Speeds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-10
Updated: 2018-01-10
Packaged: 2019-03-03 00:38:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13329801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabinelagrande/pseuds/sabinelagrande
Summary: Friendly fire on.





	The Brink

**Author's Note:**

  * For [leiascully](https://archiveofourown.org/users/leiascully/gifts).



"Ridiculous," Cassandra sneers, as she slaps the tent flap aside and walks in.

Varric rolls his eyes behind her back and follows her in. "If this is the worst thing I ever do to you in a fight, consider us all lucky."

She sets her sword down before rounding on Varric. "Do you think this is a joke, dwarf?"

"Less a joke, more a diatribe," he says, as he lays Bianca aside. "All the best jokes are shorter."

"You shot me," Cassandra says, with the same shocked revulsion she's had every time she's said it, which is several times now. 

"I clipped you in the shoulder," he says, like he has replied several times.

While he's speaking, Cassandra begins the process of doffing her armor. It's impressive; few people he's known can do it faster. Hawke can, because she's Hawke, but she does it by leaving big clattering piles of armor in awkward places. Cassandra's motions are swift and precise, practiced to the point where she can have a full conversation while taking it all off and laying it out.

And that's what she's doing, because she's not done yelling at Varric.

"Is this what you do to people who call allies?" she says, as another piece comes loose and is set aside. "Is this what you did with Hawke?"

Not to be outdone, and partly just to have something to do, Varric starts taking off his own gear, shrugging out of his coat and tossing it away without taking his eyes off Cassandra. "I never shot Hawke," he says. "She's not as intense about a fight as Adaar is."

"So it's me, then," she says. "Do I resemble a target to you?"

"I was aiming for the big symbol on your chest," he says. Adaar gave him some sturdy, uncomfortable new boots, and he tugs them off, setting them to the side. "If you hit one of those at a carnival, they give you a prize."

Cassandra doesn't say anything for a moment, but it's only because she reached a tricky spot with her disrobing and has to focus for a moment. The offending pieces clack to the ground, and she sets them in their place before straightening up. "Is this some kind of game to you?"

"How is this the first time this has ever happened to you?" Varric says, having to pull his concentration away briefly to get his socks off.

"How is this not the first time for you?" she returns, which is fair.

"I said I was sorry," Varric says, pulling his tunic over his head.

"You never said anything of the sort," Cassandra says, stripping off her gambeson and undershirt. "You would never say such a thing to me."

"Just like you never apologized for interrogating me," he says, as he pushes down his breeches.

"That was different," she says.

"How?" he demands, kicking his pants away.

"Because you weren't a friend!" she shouts, and as if to punctuate her sentence, she pulls her breastband off and throws it to the ground.

And time seems to slow for Varric for a moment, when he realizes he's now about a foot removed from Cassandra's naked tits.

"Uh," he says.

Cassandra glares at him for a moment, but he sees it when she realizes what she's just done, though it is very hard to keep his eyes on her face. He expects her to cover herself hurriedly, but she doubles down, putting her shoulders back and her hands on her hips.

It's then that he realizes he's standing here in nothing but his smalls, having done exactly the same thing.

But he's not Cassandra, so he doesn't just own it and act like he meant to; instead he rubs his temple and starts laughing, both at the absurdity of the situation and to release some of the tension. This has all been going to an ugly place, and the sensation of having stopped right at the edge is uncomfortable but somehow freeing.

Cassandra doesn't laugh, but she does sigh, slumping a little and crossing her arms over her chest.

"I really am sorry," Varric says. "Shit happens, but that doesn't mean I have to be a prick about it."

"I accept your apology," she says.

"For what it's worth, I do consider you a friend," he says.

Cassandra smiles in that way she does, dropping her head a little as if to hide it, and Varric feels a flutter in a place he thought he couldn't flutter anymore. She does that to him, and he's only just getting a handle on it. "I would like that."

They stand there for another long moment.

Varric looks down at himself. "I guess we should probably put some clothes on."

She sighs. "It might be for the best."

He isn't even entirely sure he meant to take his clothes off in the first place, but he gets dressed again. It occurs to him too late that the polite thing to do would have been turning his back while Cassandra found a shirt, but she's already wearing one by the time he thinks about it. She sits down, facing the armor she's laid out, and digs through her pack, pulling out a worn rag.

"Would you like to stay?" she asks, picking up the first piece of her armor and wiping at the blood spattered on it. 

She looks so different like this, like Varric can see inside of her, and he's not going to miss the opportunity. He sits down out of her way, settling in to watch as she cleans her carefully constructed shell. "I thought you'd never ask."

**Author's Note:**

> You definitely can't take your armor off alone in under two minutes, but you also definitely can't do a lot of things from Dragon Age.


End file.
